


Volatile Mix

by valathe



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Heartbreak, I'm at it again, break-up (sort of), don't mind me just hurting all the characters i love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 10:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11872212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valathe/pseuds/valathe
Summary: They were a volatile mix, cloyingly sweet one minute and at each other's throats the next. It wasn't very healthy for either of them, to be frank, and they both knew it. Deep down.





	Volatile Mix

In retrospect, they probably should have closed the door. They were loud, the whole situation was ugly, and _everyone_ could hear it.

Angela was mad. _Really_ mad. “Will you finally stop acting like a spoiled _child_?!”

That hurt. They knew exactly how to push each other's buttons.

“I will, once you stop fucking _mothering_ me every second of every day!”, Hana shouted right back.

They were a volatile mix, cloyingly sweet one minute and at each other's throats the next. It wasn't very healthy for either of them, to be frank, and they both knew it. Deep down.

“Ex _cuse_ me? I'm mothering you?!” Angela looked at her incredulously.

“Of course you are! “ _Put on a jacket, Hana, you'll catch a cold. You should go to bed, Hana, staying up so late isn't healthy_ ”.” she mocked. “You _never_ do that with any of the others!”

Angela crossed her arms over her chest. “Well I'm sorry for looking out for you, since you refuse to do so. Like a _child_.”

She had to know. Angela _had_ to know how much that word hurt Hana. And there was something cruel in her that demanded payback.

“How about you stop trying to vicariously relive your childhood through me, huh?” Hana said with a smirk devoid of any mirth.

“I... _what_?”

The Swiss looked at her, thrown off, and now she'd deliver the coup de grâce.

“One would think that the _prodigy doctor_ would get over her dead fucking parents after thirty years!”

There was a split-second before Angela's face fell into a stony mask, a brief moment where Hana could actually see how much she'd hurt her girlfriend, and she felt a perverse sense of satisfaction at that. It evaporated as quickly as it had come, however, when she realized just _how much_ she'd hurt her girlfriend.

“Get out.” Angela said quietly, devoid of any inflection.

“Angela, _yeon-in_ ,” Hana started shakily, but was cut off by the doctor's outburst.

“ _ **I said get out!**_ ” she screamed, face an ugly grimace, and she advanced on Hana so fast the Korean didn't have time to react. The shove came unexpectedly, and was so hard her back exploded into pain when it collided with the door frame.

Angela was heaving, tears in her eyes, and the look she sent Hana was so full of pain and betrayal it hurt even more than her back. She needed to do something - _say something, damnit!_ \- but before she could even take the breath Angela preempted her. They knew each other too well.

“Don't.” she said, quietly, and there was something in that one syllable that sparked true fear in Hana: resignation. “Just go. Please.”

She'd turned around, shoulders hunched and arms hugging herself, and refused to further acknowledge Hana's presence. The Korean knew that, no matter what she did right now, it would only make things worse, so she acquiesced to the almost-plea, and silently slinked out of the room, shoulders slumped. Just as she crossed the threshold she could hear Angela's shaky voice.

“Athena, revoke door privileges for Agent Song.”

She whirled around, eyes wide, but her desperate cry of “Wait, Angela, _please_!” was cut off by the door sliding shut right in front of her.

So she stood, motionless, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Trying to wrap her head around the very real possibility that his might have been the final _off_ for their on-off relationship. She lost track of time as she remained there, silently, trapped in an ever-turning downward spiral of dark thoughts; until the lights flickered on and she realized she must have stood there for well over an hour.

She slowly turned away from the door and crept back to her room, acutely aware of how all the conversations died down when she passed to common room. At least no one called out to her, but she would have ignored them anyway.

Locking herself in her room, she remembered she actually had a stream scheduled for ' _oh, five minutes ago'_ , but she didn't even boot up her computer. Instead, she burrowed herself into the blankets of her bed. She didn't need anyone seeing her right now. D.Va didn't cry. Only Song Hana did.

 

**Author's Note:**

> well, angst again. This actually doesn't even scratch the surface of what I headcanon for a MercyVa relationship. The angst is very real with that age gap. But also all the fluff. Imma go lie down now.  
> Song of the day is [Powders](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gpvQrnoWTwM) by Wreck and Reference. A break-up in musical form
> 
> cheers


End file.
